Page 12 of The Witch's Shifter
He sniffs it again. “No meat?” he grumbles.
“If you don’t like it, don’t eat it,” Rowan says. He’s leaning back against the counter, a bowl of soup in his hands. He tried to put his sword on the countertop behind him, but I insisted he take it back into the parlor. I’m determined to have a peaceful meal.
Faolan narrows his eyes with a low growl.
Meanwhile, Alden rips a chunk of bread off the loaf and watches the two of them with wary eyes, like he’s ready to jumpbetween them should they decide to attempt to kill each other atop the kitchen table. At least it doesn’t wobble anymore.
Ignoring them, I take a sip of soup and let out a tiny sigh. It’s full of potatoes, carrots, spinach, and fresh onion. The broth has a hint of rosemary and thyme, and the nutmeg I added gives it a slight dash of sweetness. I cut my own slice of bread, slather it with butter, and take a big bite.
There’s nothing better than hot soup and warm crispy bread on an autumn evening. I’m not sure anyone could convince me otherwise.
Still grumbling to themselves, Rowan and Faolan start to eat. Despite his earlier concern, once Faolan takes a sip, there’s no stopping him. He devours his bowl in a few big gulps, then looks up at me where I’m seated on the kitchen counter beside Rowan. “Is there any more?”
Before I can stand up, Rowan takes Faolan’s bowl, slops two more ladles of soup into it, and shoves it back into his hands, almost spilling it. I narrow my eyes at him, but he doesn’t look up at me.
Alden is taking thismuchbetter than Rowan is. Maybe it’s because he’s already been through this once with me, or maybe it’s because his child isn’t currently growing in my belly. Whatever the reason, Rowan is being uncharacteristically abrasive, and it’s only serving to inflame Faolan further. I’ve got plenty of questions for the shifter, but if Rowan keeps it up, I’m not going to get any answers out of him.
We finish our dinner in relative quiet, and once we’re done, I hop down from the counter and wave at Faolan. “Let’s go check your bandages. Rowan, Alden, would you mind cleaning up for me?”
Rowan’s eyes narrow, and he opens his mouth to object, but I sweep out of the kitchen and into the parlor before he can say a word. The sun is sinking, and dark shadows cling to the cornersof the room. As Faolan eases into the parlor behind me, I draw the drapes closed, already feeling a hint of chill starting to creep across the windowpanes.
“Take a seat.” I gesture to the couch. “I’ll just get this fire going.”
Without a word, Faolan crosses the room and sinks onto the couch. While he gets settled, I toss another log onto the fire. A tingle goes down my back. It makes me glance to my left, where Rowan is standing in the foyer, glaring into the parlor. I arch a brow at him, and he reluctantly takes a step back, but I know full well he’s not going far.
And I’m okay with that. Better than okay, really. It’s heartwarming, knowing how badly he wants to protect me. I just need a bit of space and a moment to talk with Faolan alone—ormostlyalone, though I know Alden and Rowan will be listening in. And Harrison’s ears will undoubtedly pick up on our conversation as well; he must’ve snuck back in at some point, because he was crouched on the stairs when I passed through the foyer.
Orange flames flicker to life in the stone hearth, fed by the added log, ready to devour it whole. Heat tickles my face, and with a sigh, I stand and turn to face Faolan. My back is aching tonight, and the stress these men are causing me sure isn’t helping any. I could use a warm bath and one of Rowan’s massages.
In this light, Faolan’s blue eyes appear much darker, the icy flecks no longer visible. His hair falls over his shoulders like a waterfall, perfectly straight and glossy despite the three days he spent lying on my couch.
Slowly, tentatively, I move toward him. He watches as I sink down beside him on the couch and lift a hand. “Can I remove your bandages?”
His gaze flicks to my hand, then back to my eyes, and he nods.
With utmost care, I begin unwrapping the bandages from his shoulder, chest, and neck. I move slowly. Faolan winces as I pull them away from his red-rimmed skin, but he doesn’t protest. When all the bandages have been stripped away, I get a good look at his injuries in the firelight. The wounds to his chest and shoulder look like deep gouges, tracks dug into his skin. The one on his neck is different though. It looks more like...
A bite mark.
Why didn’t I notice that before? Maybe because I was so focused on stopping his bleeding and getting everything clean and bandaged.
“Would you tell me how you got these?” I ask, leaning away from him and placing my hands in my lap.
“I was in a fight.”
I arch a brow. “With whom?”
He shrugs one shoulder, but the movement makes him wince. Though the injuries are healing, it’s obvious they’re still bothering him.
“One moment,” I say as I stand from the couch. “I’ll be back.”
I leave Faolan in the parlor and return to the kitchen, where Rowan is leaning against the doorframe and Alden is wiping crumbs from the table.
“What are you doing?” Rowan asks, brows drawing low over his green eyes. “You shouldn’t be alone with him.”
“Rowan,” I say softly, putting my hands to his chest. His heart pounds furiously beneath my palms. “I know you’re worried, and I know he’s dangerous, but please try to calm down. You’re right here if anything happens. Just let me speak with him, okay?”
He softens beneath my hands as I rise onto my toes and press a kiss to his cheek. Then I turn and give Alden a kiss on his bearded cheek as well.
